


The Cure

by welcometomystic



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: At first Shiro doesn't have a prosthetic, Do not hesitate to correct me if I am wrong though, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, I did a lot of research for this, It'll make sense later though, It's worth it too, Just a heads-up for reading, Like not in the flashback, M/M, Sickfic, This will be sad, as it is with life, at least i hope so, but there will be happy parts, mostly angst though, otherwise I just wasted a whole lotta time on this XD
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-13
Updated: 2018-04-13
Packaged: 2019-04-04 21:04:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14028699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/welcometomystic/pseuds/welcometomystic
Summary: "Lance?" Shiro asked warily, watching Lance sway as he stood. This wasn't just a drunk Lance, though. Something was very, very wrong."'K-...'Kaa-sh-shhi?" Lance slurred his sweet nickname for Shiro, but it had turned sour now. His voice was full of this odd tone of confusion, like Lance wasn't aware of his surroundings at all. His eyes, too, were dazed as if he was someplace between asleep and awake.Shiro took in his appearance quickly, his eyes running over Lance's red cheeks and blueish hands, his hair matted to his face with sweat, and how his entire body shook. Something was definitely very wrong, and Shiro was almost certain he knew why. The thought set a heavy rock in place of his stomach, and froze his heart with dread.Then, the whole world slowed. Shiro watched Lance start to fall as he began to lunge for him, even though the air around them seemed to hold him back like he was a finger pushing against a rubber band."LANCE!!"Shiro called, just managing to brush his fingertips against his boyfriend's cable-knitted sweater before Lance collapsed, unconscious.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> DISCLAIMER: This is the PROLOGUE to the rest of the story, so there will be the actual tag-related stuff coming in the next chapter. I just felt this all needed to be said and it took many more words than I had planned for this prologue. I apologize on that front, but I hope you'll enjoy some sweet Shiro and Lance action. Also, the ages are all legal here: Lance is 18, Keith is 19, and Shiro is 22 in the prologue. Afterwards, they'll probably be 20, 21, and 24, respectively. Keep that in mind, please. Thank you. I also don't want to say anything bad about clubs in Miami, but I wanted a club scene so that meant having bad bouncers and bartenders that either can't tell the differences between real I.D.s and fake ones, or just don't care. I apologize about that too.
> 
> I hope you enjoy it, though, and that you'll stick around for more soon!! Love you guys, bye! ~Rán

Shiro hummed softly as he gently woke from his slumber, a warm weight resting on his chest to remind him of just how beautiful his life had become. He hadn't ever expected to be so blessed, if he were to be honest. He hadn't necessarily had a difficult life--certainly not one like Keith's, of course--but it was such an _uneventful_  one. However, Lance still stumbled on into Shiro's life in his own Lance-like way.

 

Shiro had begun to measure his life differently when Lance came into the picture; his existence, his memories could be put into one of two categories: Before Lance and After Lance. Before Lance, Shiro had been incredibly competitive and stubborn. He was obsessed with maintaining perfect marks in  _everything_ ; he was the star athlete, the valedictorian, the male lead, the soloist, and even the gold medalist in their town's third grade science fair. He was also, well... a bit of a prude. Shiro was opposed to sexual acts simply because he felt such actions were to be saved for later on in life, if not after marriage. In fact, he couldn't even handle any dirty jokes whatsoever. (Lance would argue that he was still a bit prudish, but Shiro always countered with "Only in comparison to you, Lance; the man with the body of a god and the mouth of a sailor"). Though, after Lance had come into the picture, everything had changed.

 

And it had all started with a graduation present from his younger brother, Keith.

 

* * *

 

"Come on, Shiro!!" Keith shouted from the driver's seat of their Mom's Toyota, repeatedly slamming his hand onto the car horn. "We're gonna be late to the airport if you stall any longer!"

 

Shiro popped his head out of the window facing the front of the house. "Maybe I should! Then you might learn to be _patient!"_   Shiro hollered back before slamming the window shut as hard as he dared.

 

With a sigh, he continued to pack more and more pastel polos and pairs of khaki shorts into his suitcase, having already packed up his toiletries and reading materials.

 

Miami.

Why Miami, of all places?

 

Keith was such an oddball, at least to Shiro. Sure, Miami was a hotspot for all kinds of tourists, and was famous for it's beautiful beaches (and women, as their father had commented, not yet knowing that both of his sons were gay). However, that being said... Shiro was not your average tourist. In fact, he wasn't a tourist at all. He'd prefer to just snuggle up inside and read a book, the only sound being the whoosh of a gentle breeze past a window or the shrill tune of a kettle left to boil.

 

Keith was the adventurer, the thrill seeker, of the two. He never hid his want to bring Shiro out of his shell, and away from the "classic rich boy" stereotype he seemed to be living, but Shiro saw no point in it. He knew nothing was going to change him that drastically, and especially not someone from Miami.

 

More honking ensued, dragging Shiro back from the comfortable nest of thought that he'd created in his own mind, and the man grumbled before zipping up his suitcase and slinging his carry-on over his shoulder. He supposed this could all wait until later... fun.

 

~*~

 

"Shiro, seriously... you can't just wear pink polos in  ** _MIAMI_** !!" Keith argued, throwing his hands up as he did so. "I didn't buy us two 300 dollar tickets to Miami for you to treat it like we're just at Pidge's boat house! I swear, you Upstate people are  _insane!"_

 

 _"You're from Upstate, too!"_ Shiro argued, though he knew his arguement was futile. he'd had it many a time, and it always ended with a-

 

"No, I'm from the Bronx. You guys adopted me, remember?" Keith replied, shoving some _guayaberas_  and a straw fedora into Shiro's arms. "Now try these on, they'll look great on you. Women will swoon," Keith joked before throwing a wink Shiro's way. _**"And men will pounce!"**_  

 

"KEITH!!" Shiro shouted as his brother drew the curtain to the changing room closed with one dramatic _swoosh._

 

All Shiro could hear after that was Keith's maniacal cackling and the upbeat tune of some sort of Latin music that Shiro couldn't identify because, frankly, he was uncultured swine. He assumed it was something a bit more traditional though, seeing as this store was full of older Miami men like those he'd seen playing dominoes on the walk here.

 

God, what he wouldn't _give_ to be back home with a cup of green tea and a Dickens.

 

Though, after Shiro tried the shirts and the hat on, he couldn't deny that he looked pretty cool. The shirt was very thin, which definitely helped with the heat but also showed a little bit of the skin underneath, which... actually worked, for him, really. It made him seem a little cooler, like he had an interesting side to him. Of course, anyone who really knew him would laugh at the idea, but it made a bit of pride swell up in Shiro's chest to imagine it.

 

He took a deep breath before pushing the curtain to the side and exiting the changing room, catching sight of Keith sitting not too far away, typing away on his phone. He was probably talking to his new friend, Kolivan. He was some international student--a junior transfer, unlike Keith, who was going into his sophomore year of college just as Shiro had graduated.

 

Shiro whistled to get Keith's attention, which worked, as the boy jolted, ripping an earphone out and looking straight up at Shiro.

 

"Well, look at you. Not such a nerd after all, huh?" Keith joked, pocketing his phone and wrapping the earphones over his shoulders before walking up to Shiro to observe him. "Not too bad, the scar really works with it too."

 

Shiro stiffened at that, but Keith didn't seem to notice (or care). He  _really_ did not like the scar across his nose, and yet Keith seemed to bring it up as often as he could without raising suspicion. Shiro knew it was Keith's own way of trying to normalize it, but he didn't care; Shiro didn't want to normalize it, he wanted to  _forget it._ He still couldn't shake the feeling of anger bubbling up from inside him at the memory of a member of his old high school's rival team taking a slash at his face with a pocket knife so that Shiro would drop the football, thus giving the other team an instant victory. It had been horrible, and Shiro could have almost died, and yet he didn't... but he still had that  _scar._

 

"Hey, Shiro, I was asking if you could give me your old shirt... to put in the bag?" Keith spoke, breaking Shiro out of his thoughts. He sure was good at that, and while Shiro didn't normally enjoy it, he felt pretty thankful then.

 

"Uhhh, yeah... Yeah, here you go, Keith." Shiro replied, turning around to collect the shirt and back to Keith, holding a bag with the other shirts in them. He'd already paid, apparently. They left the shop after that and continued to walk down the street in comfortable silence.

 

Keith could tell something was off with Shiro, though, so he leaned in to his older brother and whispered, "Now that you look a bit less like a douche, why don't we do something  _fun_ tonight?"

 

~*~

 

And that's how Shiro found himself in the middle of a mosh pit at some club at South Beach. All he knows is that Keith dragged him here, ordered him some drinks (which he should _nOT LEGALLY BE ALLOWED TO DO!!)_ and dragged him out into the crowd to "have some fun, for once!"

 

God, if this was fun, Shiro wanted none of it EVER again! That is, until the song changed once again and a tanned boy about Keith's age managed to climb up onto the DJ stand. Instead of being roughly pushed off, or tugged down by jealous clubbers, the tan boy was encouraged by DJ and dancers alike. It seemed as if everyone treated everyone as family here, even if they were complete strangers. That's something Shiro had seen already, but it was even more shocking.

 

The boy continued to dance and Shiro was entranced by the way his hips seemed to move like his waist was made of jello. His outfit didn't help, either; the boy wore a white, ruffled crop top that hung off his shoulders in such a fashion that Shiro feared the shirt might slip off at any moment, and light-wash skinny jeans that left almost nothing to the imagination. On top of that, the boy's makeup was akin to something Kesha might wear, golden glitter positively dripping from where it appeared to be painted on around his left eye.

 

To say Shiro was whipped would be an understatement.

 

Keith definitely saw it as well, jabbing Shiro in the ribs to get his attention and throwing him a smirk when Shiro turned to face him.

 

"Go get him!" Keith shouted to Shiro, but the man could hardly hear his voice at this point and just managed to lip-read the message.

 

The boy onstage must have had the same idea as Keith--though, from his  _own_ perspective--as he met Shiro's gaze with his own as the black-haired man turned back to face the DJ stand. After but a moment of eye contact, the lanky, tan boy smirked and leaned in to the DJ, his eyes never leaving Shiro's as he spoke with them about something which Shiro could not begin to decipher. Then, the music faded slightly and everyone made to listen to what the DJ had to say.

 

"Ladies and gentlemen, it looks like we'll be getting some live entertainment to-niiigghhhhtttt!!" The man shouted and the crowd roared back in excitement. "Let's give it up to Miami's _favorite little Selenaaaaaaa!!"_

 

Then the boy took a mic from the DJ to tape to the side of his face, so his hands would be free, and it all made sense once more. This boy was a performer?

 

"Thank you, thank you; muchas gracias." The boy called out and the crowd cheered louder, as if they knew him well. "I tell this man not to call me su Selena, pero él no escucha a nadie."

 

The crowd laughed while Shiro was still translating. ** _"Not to call me his... his Selena, but he... doesn't listen to anybody..."_**

 

Oh shit, there's music playing now. Shiro had better listen if he wants to... well, if he wants to listen, he supposes. It's not as if he knew this kid's name or anything...

 

 _"heeeeeEEEEEEEEEEEEEEYYYYYYYYYYYYYY YEAH Yeah yeeaaaaahhhhhhhhhh!!"_ Selena sang, and Shiro understood. He was called 'Selena', because  _this was a Selena song._ As in the famous Latina pop singer from the '90s. He must be a frequent, and must sing Selena quite a lot if the DJ and crowd knew him as such.

 

And so this Selena kept singing, prancing around as best he could, now around the DJ on the actual stand and not just the edge, through the first verse and second verses. However, once he got to the end of the second verse, before the second chorus, Selenas looked Shiro in the eye as he sang, and then motioned for him to come forward... to the front of the crowd, and onto the stand. Oh, God.

 

Keith started pushing Shiro forward and the rest of the crowd around him joined in.

 

 _"¡Y se emociona!"_  

 

Shiro was being dragged to the front.

 

_"¡Ya no razona! No lo puedo controlar."_

 

The crowd had him pushed up to the end of the stage, and Shiro could see the front of Selena’s scuffed and aged Adidas superstars.

 

 _"¡Y se emociona!"_ Shiro was at the edge of the stage. _"¡Ya no razona!"_ He was climbing up the side of the stand, clubbers pushing him up as he did so. _"¡Y me empieza a cantar!"_ Selenas grabbed his hand as he climbed over the metal bar to the rest of the small stage. _"Me canta así..."_ He kissed Shiro's hand. _"¡Asíííí!"_ And placed the hand on his own waist.

 

Shiro's brain short-circuited at that point, unable to comprehend the fact that he was now touching this tan boy's smooth, warm skin. It was damp with the light sweat that comes with singing and dancing under strong lights, and Shiro couldn't believe that the idea wasn't putting him off. In fact... he kind of  _liked_ it? Quickly thereafter, though, Selenas took his hand back and rested his own other hand on Shiro's shoulder.

 

The rest of his time onstage became a blur of some sort of Latin dance that he'd never even seen, let alone participated in before. (Shiro later learned that this was the _la Cumbia_ , and he came to master it because he enjoyed the memory that came with it). He could feel Selenas' attraction even through the dance, not just the fact that this boy seemed to both be performing  _and_ singing only to Shiro  _himself_. The sultry look behind his eyes as he taught Shiro how to lead in a dance that he had no practice with didn't help either. This boy's toes were just lucky that Shiro was naturally well-coordinated, or they'd be pulp by now. Shiro couldn't complain though, not when a boy this pretty had taken an obvious interest in him and was causing Shiro to feel... well, a bit hot under the collar, really.

 

"¿Oye?" Shiro suddenly heard, and he was instantly back in the moment. Damn, had he really just spaced out with so many people watching? Crap... "Hey. Hot Stuff, you there?"

 

"Yeah, sorry..." Shiro mumbled and the boy laughed good-naturedly.

 

"It's okay, cariño." Selena replied sincerely before his mask for the crowd came back and a great big smirk painted itself onto his face. Shiro rather preferred the sincere Selena, but this one was incredibly handsome as well... just not as sweet, it seemed. "I was just asking for your name, handsome. The crowd would probably like to know who their Selenas is going home with tonight."

 

Shiro choked while Selena winked to the crowd as it roared with laughter and screams of excitement. Keith caught Shiro's eye as he outright cackled and threw Shiro a thumbs-up. God, if he wasn't Shiro's brother and if he didn't love the kid so damned much, he'd be dead by tomorrow morning with the way he was giving Shiro shit about this  _already_.

 

"I-It's Takashi..." He replied and Selenas' smirk grew.

 

"Ooooooo! Well, hello _Takashi_ _._ " And Shiro almost dropped dead at the way this boy said his name with his slight accent. It sounded almost lewd on its own coming from his soft lips, and that was just a  _name_.

 

Selena was going to kill him. 

 

~*~

 

So, Selena didn't end up killing Shiro onstage with his sheer sexiness, but Shiro  _did_  almost ask Keith to drive him all the way back to New York before the end of this trip simply because of how awkward he was being with this boy as they now near the bar.

 

"The name's Lance, by the way. Lance McClain." Selena explained, attempting to save Shiro and his inexperienced ass. "But you can call me whatever you want..." Lance leaned his way into Shiro's personal bubble until his hand was resting on Shiro's chest and his lips were grazing Shiro’s ear. ¿Y qué dices tú, Papí? My place or yours?"

 

"N-Neither?" Shiro replied, squirming a bit. He was  _incredibly_ inexperienced with this shit. The kid was so bold, and Shiro could barely muster up the brain capacity to form a response, he was so flustered. Shiro couldn't believe it, he had never been so incoherent in his  _life_.

 

"Oh?" Lance leaned back, a bit of an insecure look on his face as the wheels turned inside his brain. "Did... did I misread this? Are you not...?"

 

"No! No, I-I like guys, I just... I'm not... I-I've never..." Shiro stuttered. "I mean, I'd love to, I just don't... know... what to do?"

 

Lance laughed at that, his sensuality back at full force in no time. "Don't worry, Papí. I know  _exactly_ how it's done..."

 

* * *

 

Yeah, Shiro was one lucky guy... not only for having met Lance, or for his brother dragging him out of his comfort zone, but also because Keith had slipped a condom and a packet of lube into one of the pockets in his guayabera as they passed and rented a room at a different hotel for the night. Man...

 

The warm weight on his chest shifted a bit and Shiro was brought back to the present.

 

"Mmmmmmm..." Lance hummed softly before he lifted his head so his chin rested on Shiro instead and he looked up into his boyfriend's eyes. Lance's face was squnched up all cute and his eyes squinted as he adjusted to the light in the room, but he smiled anyway. "Mornin' 'Kashi... y'look good this morninggg..."

 

Shiro chuckled a bit at that and arched his neck down so he could kiss the top of Lance's sleep-mussed hair, despite the sharp pain he got from stretching his neck too far for comfort. "Good morning, mi sirenito."

 

Lance's sweet smile grew at that too, remembering how Shiro had asked why Lance's father called Lance's mother his 'sirenita'. 

 

 _It's a term of endearment en español, ‘Kashi. It's like calling your boyfriend or girlfriend your mermaid or your siren._ Shiro then proceeded to call Lance such, as he claimed that Lance's performance of "Bidi Bidi Bom Bom" had been his siren call to Shiro, and that the man was enchanted ever since. Lance couldn't comprehend how perfect Shiro was sometimes, and that had been one of those times. He was so lucky.

 

They were both so, so lucky.

(Until they _weren't)._


	2. Wake Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maybe the two boys aren't as lucky as they had previously thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I decided to change Shiro's name to his actual first name from now on, except in certain situations. While it's incredibly difficult to retrain myself to do such, it makes much more sense. 'Shiro' was the guy before Lance (except to Keith, because he just calls Shiro that regardless. It's hard for Keith to break habits), Takashi is the man after. Besides, it'd be weird if Lance was calling him 'Kashi/Takashi, but I referred to him as Shiro in the narrative... I don't know, it makes me a bit antsy XD

"Good morning, mi sirenito." Takashi mumbled after kissing Lance on the top of his head, the boy's stubborn and tousled curls tickling his nose.

 

"Mmmmmmm, y buenas noches..." Lance replied, attempting to burrow back into Takashi's chest and under the covers, in order to fall asleep again.

 

"Nooooooo, no no no no nooo!!" Takashi replied, chuckling as he dug Lance back out from the duvet. "The sun is out and that means that it's time to get up! We've already slept in late as it is."

 

Lance groaned before pushing himself up into a sitting position, and the shivers started. He was perpetually cold nowadays whenever he wasn't under at least two blankets and wrapped up in Takashi's arms.

 

"Cold again, babe?" Takashi asked, his eyebrows knitted in worry.

 

Lance hadn't been doing so great the past few months. While he wasn't incredibly sick, he seemed to be getting colds, or...  _something_ on and off. He would get bouts of dizziness and chills every so often, but Lance hadn't been too worried about it so Takashi just observed and kept note of when the symptoms faded in and out of existence.

 

"Y-Yeah, the shivers are back, 'Kashi." Lance replied, wrapping his hands up in their down comforter and pulling the heavy blanket to his chest.

 

Takashi quickly pressed himself to the back of Lance to keep his boyfriend warm for as long as possible, even though he knew that it was a miracle that Lance hadn't been shivering even before waking. "I think it's time to see a doctor, Lance. This isn't normal, alright? You keep getting sick."

 

"But you  _know_ I don't like doctors, Takashi!!-"

 

"And you know that I don't like it when you're sick; it looks like neither of us is getting what we want today, alright?" Takashi shot back angrily before sighing in defeat and hugging his sweet, possibly sick boyfriend closer. "Look, I'm just really worried. Please just go with me? It's not like money is an issue, Lance; you know that. We can go right after my run. I'll even get some cookies from the bakery on my way back, so you can eat some on the way. Does that work?"

 

 Lance grumbled a response that Takashi couldn't hear.

 

"What was that, lovely?" He replied, grinning a little because he could infer that Lance had agreed to his suggestion.

 

 "I _said_ , 'as long as you pick up some cookies too'..."

 

"That's my boy," Takashi replied, attacking with Lance with kisses all over his cheeks, neck, and back until the boy was a flushed, giggling mess.

 

"Just make sure to call me if you are feeling worse, and/or if you need anything. Okay, Lance?" Takashi asked after climbing out of the bed and tucking Lance back under the covers.

 

"I promise." The younger man hummed before snuggling closer to his Winnie the Pooh bear—the one Takashi had gotten for him when Lance's mother had told him how much Lance loved Winnie the Pooh when he was little—and quickly falling into another nap.

 

A smile came over Takashi's face at the sight, and he kept that smile as he changed and went out on his trek, one that would take an hour and a half (too long).

 

~*~

 

"I'm hoooome!!" Takashi called, gently placing his keys in the small glass dish near the door to their apartment before locking the door behind him and toeing his gym shoes off. "I've got your stuff too, Lance!"

 

When that didn't have Lance tumbling through the hall after him, Takashi's brow furrowed a bit. Lance must have been awfully tired if he hadn't woken up yet. He had been pretty tired all around recently, but it was also nearing finals for the college kid. That must be it, right? Takashi was just glad to have convinced Lance to take him to the doctor's, ready to have all this extra worry behind him already.

 

"Lance, honey?" Takashi called again, a bit softer now; coaxing a reaction from him as he walked through the hallway and into the doorway to their bedroom.

 

Lance was still in bed, on his right side so that Takashi could only see his back and the rising and falling of his lover's chest. He sighed in relief, knowing that Lance hadn't collapsed and cracked his head open somewhere, thank heavens.

 

So, Takashi turned on his heel to go to their one bathroom and take a nice, quick shower. He'd gotten pretty sweaty today, as it was now summertime and temperatures had skyrocketed, much to the older man's chagrin. That meant being extra sweaty, which meant more showers and having to worry about Lance fussing over his hair more often. He loved his sweet boyfriend, but Lance could be a bit obnoxious sometimes when it came to hair and skin care routines.

 

What Takashi hadn't seen, however, was the slight hitching of Lance's chest, and ever-expanding stain on his pillowcase.

 

~*~

 

Another half an hour later, Takashi hopped out of the shower and peeked out of the bathroom door, expecting to hear Lance watching Fixer Upper and munching on his baked goods, waiting to pounce on his boyfriend's still-soaking wet frame to fix up his hair. But no, the apartment was completely silent...

 

That was worrying. Lance and silence had the same relationship as young children and silence; that usually means that the child or, in this case,  _Lance_ is getting themself into trouble... or that something was really wrong.

 

Upon quickly drying off his body and dressing, all in under two minutes, Takashi practically ran to their shared bedroom. While doing so, he noticed that Lance's breathing was no longer quite as smooth as before Takashi had left this morning, as if his lungs and/or throat were struggling against something. 

 

The reason why quickly became apparent when Takashi rolled the man over onto his back to check on him and he found the sheets stained red, and his Pooh bear looking like he'd just survived a massacre. There was a slow but steady flow of blood oozing its way out of Lance's nose and mouth, and the man felt like a furnace as well, his face a bright pink color while his hands were pale.

 

"Lance?..." Takashi whispered in shock, his mind reeling for a couple seconds before he sprung to action, waking up from his daze. _"L-Lance!!_ Lance, can you hear me?! Please wake up; oh baby, _please_ wake up!!"

 

When Lance didn't so much as open his eyes, Takashi's blood ran cold and he knew he had to rush his boyfriend to the hospital. Immediately.

 

He quickly pulled Lance up and repostioned him so that Takashi could wrap his arms around Lance's chest, under his arms, and lift him out of bed slightly before changing his postion again and carrying him bridal-style out of bed and into their car. It was a struggle, especially with how heavy Lance was while unconscious like this and how shaky Takashi felt, adrenaline both keeping him from breaking down but also making his knees tremble with even his  _own_ weight.

 

After he situated Lance in the car, his head tilted down and his nose stuffed with cotton balls so that he wouldn't swallow too much blood on the way there, Takashi quickly ran back inside to grab the keys, his phone, and a phone charger before calling 9-1-1 and driving Lance to the nearest E.R.

 

"9-1-1; What's your emergency?" A female voice boomed through his otherwise silent SUV. Takashi had kept the call on speakerphone so that he could focus as much on driving as possible. He didn't want the two of them getting in an accident on the way.

 

"I-I'm driving my boyfriend to the hospital right now, b-but I want to make sure he'll be seen right away. I've been w-worried about him for months, but-"

 

"Sir, I'm going to need you to tell me what exactly is afflicting your significant other at this time." The dispatcher said, successfully cutting off Takashi's rambling.

 

He swallowed thickly before continuing. "Y-Yes ma'am. I saw that he was bleeding from his nose and mouth while sleeping, after I'd gone out of the house, and that there was a huge puddle of it. I-I, he must have been bleeding for hours. I hadn't really ch-checked on him since I left this morning, about two hours ago... and he's got a crazy fever right now, too, and he won't wake up. A-And, I'd been trying to get him to go to a doctor for months now, because h-he keeps getting sick, b-but he wouldn't listen!!" Takashi replied, blinking away his tears as fear rose like bile in his throat.

 

"It's good that you're taking him to the hospital right this moment then, sir. Tell the nurses that your boyfriend is experiencing an epistaxis, cannot be woken, has a high fever, and has been unwell for several months now, just as you told me. They should know that you require immediate attention. If not, however, please hand the phone over to him or her and I will speak with the nurse for you."

 

Takashi did just that after carrying Lance out of the car, and thank heavens the nurses knew just how dire their situation was. In no time at all, Lance was being rushed to the emergency room and Takashi was left to wait until the medical professionals had news for him... good or bad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is that exciting enough for you kiddos? ;D Also, whoever can help me come up with a reason for Shiro to have a prosthetic arm (one that doesn't envolve the military) that I like gets a free (virtual) puppy... or maybe something else, we can figure it out.


	3. Quick Question

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Not an update, but please read as this is important

I have not been able to write another part of this work and I honestly must say it's because I want to scrap the idea and rewrite it from the bottom on up.

I'm thinking of rewriting this to be almost like a... self-aware modern reboot of RENT? Sort of? I don't want to give away too many details, but it's going to be a complex plot looking at the Voltron crew as Broadway actors and actresses, or otherwise involved (like stagehands, makeup artists, etc.), but Lance ends up getting sick at some point. Hence why I'm changing this work to fit that mold and not just abandoning it altogether. There will also be a love triangle (or, really more like a love "v", as Keith and Shiro aren't attracted to one another) between Lance, Keith, and Shiro, so if you're not game for that, I apologize.

That being said, is anyone still interested in it? If people aren't really interested in it, I'll just write it as another work instead of overhauling this one, but if you are interested, I'll just edit this work to fit what I wanted. Honestly though, I'll probably delete it regardless. I'm not much a fan of this work anymore, ngl. Thank you all for your amazing support, though. I really appreciate it.

Again, please just comment down below what you think. I've been thinking about this for a while now, and I wanted you all to be a part of it if at all possible, since you guys have been so supportive.

**Author's Note:**

> DUN DUN DUNNNNNNN!!! Sorry about the cliffhanger, but I promise that this is not the end. I will be posting more for the next chapter, and will actually be getting into the real story. I just really loved the story of how the two of them met, and wanted to show how close they were and how much the both of them (though, mostly Shiro) had changed since they first met. Plus, español and culture. ~Rán


End file.
